Verbose Stoic

I would like to become tight lipped. Stoic. A man who says little, but when he does speak people listen. I do have my moment. I can clam up during a car ride for hours. But I usually prattle on like a little kid. It's comical. I will rarely speak to people at social events, but get me out of that context and I will blab so much you'll never want to run into me again. I blame on the only child. Myself. I rarely had anyone to talk to so when I did make a friend I tended to be overly effusive. One example from way back:

I was around 5 years old and we had just moved back to Murfreesboro from Mississippi and had rented a cheap mobile home on Manson Pike. The L&N railroad was a few feet from our door - the trains would rattle the trailer as they roared by night and day. I thought that was cool, but when my parents found lice in the place we were forced to move quick. So we trudged a couple miles down the road to another trailer park off Old Nashville Hwy by the National Guard Armory. We hadn't even unpacked and I started making friends. The trailer park was full of scruffy kids who'd swarm and slide down the kudzu covered hillside, which was part of Fortress Rosecrans, across the highway. I was telling my life story to everybody within minutes ecstatic to have an audience. The next day none of them would play with me. I had told them about the lice and they must have thought I was eat up with the bugs even though I wasn't. I spent a miserable few months in that dump all because of my big mouth.

I've never gotten so bad that people run away when they see me, but I'm always afraid they will. I don't want to become one "those guys" that never shuts up. So this coming year I'm going to be more thoughtful with the words I speak. I will be contemplative and deliberate. It may turn out that there's really not much worth saying out loud. Maybe if I shut up I'll find that I've got more to write about, that I'll want to write more, and hopefully better.

On the subject of writing: I'm teaching myself to write on paper again. I've always been partial to notebook keeping; intrepid journaling, but I have fallen out of the habit. So I've decided to analog a portion of my life again and I learned that I was writing all wrong. My fingers have been doing all the work instead of using my arm and shoulder. I've been drawing my letters. So if you see some dude writing letters in the air or sitting on a park bench with a Big Chief pad it'll be me. I've ordered a Moleskine planner to use next year in the office. I think I'll even start sending out letters next year - a revolution of the personal.

I laid out a list of goals toward the end of 2005 and I accomplished the most important one. This year I'm not going to make a list of resolutions. I'm tweaking the format to one big blob. This is to make qualitative improvements in every aspect of my life. I've lost the weight so now I tone up. I need new pants so I get good quality ones. I screw something up - I will apologize and try to fix it. I get the urge to blab or scream and yell - I will chill out and bite my tongue. I don't want a moment of zen. I'll take a whole year.

From The Fanboy Archives: White Animals redux

Wally digs through the rock and roll debris. As always; click on the images to make them bigger. This installment is all about one of Nashville’s original New Wave rock and roll bands: White Animals. Some of this material has been posted here previously and some of it has been posted over at the White Animals website, but this will be the first time on the internet for most of the archival material. The classic line-up: Kevin Gray - vocals, guitar Steve Boyd - vocals, bass Rich Parks - guitar, vocals Ray Crabtree - drums, vocals Tim Coats - dreadmaster The White Animals were one of the biggest bands in Nashville until they called it quits in 1987. Along with Jason And The Scorchers they landed music videos on MTV and for awhile it looked as if the White Animals might grab a major label record deal. They toured the college rock circuit with their mixture of Sixties flavored rock, Seventies punk, and splashes of dub reggae and won praise from coast to coast. They were sometimes faintly damned for being a frat band, but their genius won most of the critics over. The White Animals would play frat parties and they could play whole sets of cover songs if they wanted, but it was never their focus. It ended up creating a rock and roll multi-subcultural fan base. Frat boy accountants to be would stand shoulder to shoulder with future alternative rockers while punk rockers slam danced in the background. Through it all the White Animals exhibited a casual cool with a total love for playing music. A White Animals show was always an event and after the song "Ecstasy" dropped their shows became patchouli soaked events because of the line, "that patchouli that you wear." You’d wake up the next day bleary eyed and spent from all of the dancing and your clothes would just reek of patchouli. I was first exposed to their animalistic fever via a local Murfreesboro television show called Saturday Night At The Video. They interviewed the boys between clips of “Don’t Care” and “This Girl Of Mine” and I was hooked. The next time I visited the local Port ‘o Call Records shop, instead of just culling the discount import records, I made a beeline to their local section. The White Animals shared most of the space with Jason and The Nashville Scorchers. Soon I became a local music fanboy with the White Animals at the top of my pops.

 

I started attending as many of their all-ages shows as I could. Their recorded material just couldn’t do them justice like their live gigs did. It was loud, raucous, and transcendent. Tight; yet loose with Kevin at the center of it able to make hippie tie die, bandannas, and party beads seem immensely hip to my punk rock sensibilities. Kevin would smack his fist against his face while the dub rolled over us as sweet as the clove cigarette smell which always seemed present. The show would end and instead of splitting the White Animals would hang out and talk to us. I felt like one of the chosen in 1985 while Kevin talked smack, “Our next record is going to kick Huey Lewis and Billy Idol’s asses.” How about a quick snapshot of their early days from Kevin Gray himself: --- in our embryonic days, when WA was just me and Rob Jackson, esq., [note - Rob already had a background in “club-opening” with Mississippi Whiskers – named after a Phil Doss poem. Doss – who was our 1st bassist – was the mgr, while Rob put together the Full Circle Band as the house band to get the club going, the band signed, fame and fortune for all in the best Nashville tradition] WE went down to Herr Harry’s Franks n Steins – a dark and dingy little pub for music row nooner trysts 2 blocks from my apt – and persuaded Harry to try music. WE got “discovered” by the Vandy Law school, and before long the place was packed every weekend, Harry moved out the old Volkswagen-sized big screen TV, and was having bands play on weekdays. Along the way Rob and I added Doss and Joe Loftis, OFA, and the WA “Frankensteins” crowd got so packed and out of hand that WE began casting about for alternative places to play, and after the Olde Tyme Pickin’ Parlour proved too seedy, WE lucked upon the Burger Boy “expansion” 1 block from my apt. Apparently noting Harry’s success, the long-time mgr had put up a cinder block side bldg lined with sawmill log trash that he was gonna call Kickers or some such – they had picnic tables with red-checked tablecloths and some nasty fake-hurricane drinks served in boot-shaped glasses. WE opened the place on NYE to a devoted if bewildered and semi-sparse crowd – and that was the nite Rob quit the band, citing “creative differences” – I believe this was now 1/1/81 dawning --- we added Nashville superpicker Willie Drew Collins, were contacted by Dave Cannon asking to manage us and getting us into the Bluebird on a trial basis as the Monday “ROCK NITE” house band for 2 months to hone our “new” lineup – Despite the regular presence of Don Shlitz [fresh off “The Gambler” acclaim] and other West-side celebs, the powers that be decided that Animalism was waaaaaaaaaay too strong for the Bluebird and the club returned to the present-day format – meanwhile, Terry Cantrell had bought out Burger Boy and so WE opened Cantrell’s – and remained for months as the regular weekend house band, leaving only when Tony Moon began to get us Campus gigs across the SEC thereby spreading the WA gospel far and wide ---- So… WA broke ground and paved the way for others to follow, and did it all in a DIY spirit of musical joy – there was NO DOUBT in our minds that WE would keep on rising up to that big record contract in the sky and that folks around Music City would all say “Dang – those are some good boys – they made this whole scene so nice for all of us and we’re shore glad to see them have the success they worked so long and hard for…” Except it never happened that way and history is indeed written by the winners – and sadly it seems WE are not actually relevant to the condensed summary evolution of the Nashville Scene. A pity --- folks forget that there was a lot of harmony, and so it would have been nice to at least have a level playing field – with contracts for all, Stones trying to knock pals Beatles or Who off the #1 chart spot. WE learned too late that show biz is not a meritocracy and maybe somewhere my own unwillingness to abandon medicine for a career in music doomed us as much as anything – always looking over my shoulder, waiting for the clock to strike midnite and the fun police to come and take me away. BTW – MY favorite local band of all that time was The Actuals, though they only played about 3 gigs before exploding – leaving me with only my Young Nashvillian records as consolation… xoxoxo Their original material was as good if not better than the cover material they did. Kevin Gray and Steve Boyd were Nashville's version of Lennon and McCartney, each with a different style that complemented the other. They were like The Beatles to me. Gray's songs tended to rock more while Boyd tended to play the injured romantic crafting darker more complex material. They were rock and roll classicists doing their own Chubby Checker twist on things creating one of the most original sounds of the Eighties. They evolved over the course of an EP and several LP's which were released on their own Dreadbeat label. WA’s Dreadbeatology: Singles: It's Not Right/I'll Be Her Fool 1979...A New Blood records release. The flipside was written by Phil Doss. Be-Bop-A-Lula/You Don't Send Me 1980...also not a Dreadbeat release, This is the single with just White Animals on the label. Original drummer Joe Loftis, who would later form Joe Loftis & The Pinks, sings Be-Bop-A-Lula. Old Jazzmaster/I Need Somebody To Love Me 1981...the first official Dreadbeat release #DB45-282A,B The General Willie Collins sings “Old Jazzmaster” These Boots Are Made For Dubbing 1982 12 inch single #Dub5182 one sided, blank side had legs etched onto itIt was while figuring out which side of Nashville Babylon was the first side that I discovered that the White Animals liked to leave cryptic messages in the inner grooves of their records alongside the side numbering that is usually present. I went through all of their thirty three and a third releases and found statements on most. This one-sided 12 inch single’s inner groove message was an homage to a Stanley Kramer film. "It's a dread, dread, dread, dread world!" Don't Care/Boots Again and Again 1983 #DB4583 the A side has Video Soundtrack printed on it. It sounds the same to me as the album version. This Girl Of Mine/Seasons Change 1985 #DBS 6184...I have a yellow label version that was handed out at an all ages show in 85 (autographed by the White Animals too) and I also have a red label version with a picture sleeve. This Girl Of Mine is given a special radio re-mix. Kevin: WE TIGHTENED THE FADE-IN UP FRONT MOSTLY, MASTERED IT AT FRANKFORD-WAYNE IN NYC, OUR BASIC IDOLS WHO CUT ALL THE SOULSONIC FORCE, RUN-DMC, WHODINI, ETC DANCE TRAX - THIS IS ONLY CURRENT LIVING SOURCE FOR "SEASONS CHANGE" STUDIO VERSION - WE'D HAVE PUT IT ON THE X RE-ISSUE IF ONLY WE COULD FIND THE DAMN THING... Help Yourself/She's So Different 1986 12 inch single #DBRS1185...from the press release I'll share a quote from Kevin Gray about Help Yourself, "Help Yourself is ritual dance music. The them is sort of King Kong meets Molly Ringwald at a dance in Oxford, Mississippi. Tear down the facades, the world is calling." I HAD HER PICTURE PINNED UP FOR DAYS WHILE TRYING TO IMAGINE ROCKING THE PRETTY-IN-PINK CROWD DIZZY There were no secret messages. It was just the names of the songs inscribed in the inner grooves. EP & LP releases: Nashville Babylon 1981 #DBLP 91681 The EP Nashville Babylon's messages are: that side "vulgar, animalistic, nigra, rock & roll, bop..." this side "I can still use my snout!" The message on side one, that side, is just a description about what lays in the grooves using the standard putdown response of the rock and roll haters back in the Fifties. The “snout” reference is to the Zap Comix character Wonder The Wart Hog Lost Weekend 1982 #DBLP1052 Has the awesome “I Must Have Been Hypnotized” cover and it has these inner groove testaments: side one "What am I...an onion?!?" side two "Mimi's favorite band" I never knew Mimi, but she had good taste. Kevin sez, Mimi was-is a debutante in Dallas who had us play her ball that was written up in Time magazine.I don't know what the onion bit is about. Maybe it was an inside joke, or perhaps some pop culture reference that's too obscure for me. Kevin said it may be in reference to a club owner. White Animals New Beat From Nashville 1983 not a Dreadbeat release, four song ep with polar bears throwing snowballs cover issued on West German label Pool Ecstasy 1984 #DBLP 1984...here's where the serious WA collector can have some fun, there were two different back sleeves and inside sleeves for this lp. The first one has band photgraphs on the back and inside, the second does away with the band photos for some cheeseball art. In my book the first version is preferable to the second, the photos are awesome especially the inside sleeve ones. Rumour is that the album had to be changed because the WA's weren't ponying up the cash they owed the photgrapher OR they were just using some pictures without permission. Hey, it was the heady days of the 80's. SORRY TO QUASH THE ROMANCE, BUT... WE LOVED THE FIRST PACKAGE TOO, AND WHEN THE 1ST PRESSING COMPLETELY SOLD OUT, WE HAD TO GO WITH A "BIGGER" DISTRIBUTOR, REPRESS, REPRINT, ETC. -- UNFORTUNATELY, WHEN HUNTING AROUND THE OFFICE FOR THE MASTER ARTWORK, THE WHOLE INNER SLEEVE AND BACK COVER WERE "MISSING" [!!!] WE HASTILY TOOK A HANDY EARLY PRELIMINARY COVER IDEA WITH SOME RE-WORKED LYRICS AND THANKS FOR THE INSIDE, ALONG WITH ANOTHER PRELIM COVER IDEA WE HAD FOR THE BACK. THAT "NEW" BACK COVER WAS OUR FIRST BLUSH WITH THE LEGENDARY HUNGRY DOG STUDIO, WHO DID THE "LIVE" COVER AND 3,000 NITES -- PLUS RUN-DMC PAPPA CRAZY, ASSORTED ROLLING STONE MAG STUFF, ETC... side one "Virginia is for lovers" plus there was a drawing of a heart side two "pocket full 'o hope in the ninth" I assume the reference to Virginia was because of the many shows the White Animals performed in that great state. The side two script is about a race horse that Steve Boyd placed a winning bet on at Churchill Downs. White Animals 1986 #DBLP3186 also known as the purple album,drums in church...it's the album cut in Memphis with Busta Jones producing. Always thought there was a scrapped album between Ecstasy and this one, but Ray put me straight and said no, but I still wonder if there aren't at least some demos of this album laying around, always felt the production was overdone. Side one "Hossman you're the greatest" Side two "Bustamup" Hossman was a reference to Hoss Allen, the legendary WLAC deejay who helped spread R&B and black gospel throughout the eastern US. He's heard at the first of the song "Caught Up In The Dread" saying "so sit back and the let the spirit commence." The second side inner groove is obviously a reference to the producer Busta Jones. White Animals Live 1986? #DBLP 1186 Kevin: CHECK OUT THE COVER FOR THIS ONE - IT WAS DRAWN TO BE THE "BIG SHOT" RADIO SINGLE REMIX COVER, TILL THINGS BEGAN TO FEEL A BIT "TERMINAL" AND WE DID THE LIVE RECORDINGS AS A SORTA GREATEST HITS OFFERING. [I STILL HAVE A DREAM OF A WEEK OFF AND ALL THE 24 TRACK LIVE ROUGHS FROM THOSE 2 NITES IN HILTON HEAD TO MIX INTO A KILLER PACKAGE] There were no inscriptions in the inner grooves.

In The Last Days 1987 #DBLP 4157 last Dreadbeat vinyl The next inscriptions would be on the album In The Last Days. The A side "The old order changes..." The B side "...yielding place to new" In The Last Days was the band's last album, until they released a CD of new material recently, and the messages were quotes from "Idylls Of The King" by Tennyson that fit the mood. Kevin Gray gave a lengthy interview in the Nashville music paper of the time, Metro, about rock and roll being for the young and that it was time for him to step aside and go back to medical school which is just what he did. You can read the article at the end of this post. Just click on the pics to make them readable. The entire In The Last Days album is available on mp3 at the White Animals website. He now practices medicine in Texas. But luckily for us White Animals fans, the lure of playing rock and roll was too much for him and he got back together with his bandmates in 1999 for an incendiary pair of shows at the Exit/In. They've played a handful of shows every year since proving that you don't have to be young to rock. If The Rolling Stones can still do it, the White Animals should be able to also. many of these albums, if not all came out on cassette also Other Dreadbeat Releases Young Nashvillians-Metropolitan Summer 1982 #DBLP1252...I love this record!!!!! also a 45 release by Victor-"Amerikan Dread/Amerikan Dread" (N.Y.C. Dub) produced by Aashid #DBS 1286, probably came out in 1986. The White Animals were one of my main inspirations for forming a rock and roll band, right up there alongside Johnny Ramone. The first time I saw them at Cantrells was a touchstone event for me. The smell of patchouli and clove cigarettes, the graffiti covered back wall of the club where we begged for autographs, Bruno slam dancing with some bruising dude, teeny bopper girls popping gum on the front row, preppie kids pogoing, my astonishment at how good the WA's were, at how much passion and heat they were generating on that tiny stage. This may sound corny, but it was tender magic - sheer exuberant rock and roll fun with a hint of danger from the punkers in the crowd. Then the most amazing thing was that it was like that everytime I saw the band. They always delivered the goods. 

 

The White Animals Metro article:

A few words and a link from Instapundit. If you need more Old School Nashville Rock And Roll you can visit these old Soulfish Stew posts: Fanboy Archive on Lee A. Carr A post about some old Nashville rocker's Myspace sites and the one post gateway to the 4 part Nashville Rock series featured here and at Blogcritics. If you write a comment it may take some time for it to appear since I have to approve them which I usually do unless its SPAM or filled with lewdness.

Great Punk Fanzine Link

Operation Phoenix Records has a whole slew of old punk fanzines available in pdf form. So click and go forth and read.

Livin In The Past

Okay, so geez I promised all of my loyal reader(s) - "Hi mom!" - that I would blog about the present this time around, but what if the present tends toward the dull, the Prozac prosaic, the uber personal null of things. To jazz this up you'll have to read it in a nasal whine ala Rammellzee "B-boy making with the freak freaks" which should be almost as much fun as that night that the Franklin cops tried to bust the Gonz and I after an F.U.C.T. and Intruder show, but that's in the past so you'll have to read about that in the future. Because today is the present day. The synapse exploding NOW that's not made of Top 40 pop schlock, but composed of things like Harper bumping her head after falling out of her chair at Ryan's, Emily hosting her 8th birthday party, and Liam getting his hair punk rock styled with gel. The present is getting beat down by a 5 year old UNO wiz. Kurtis Blow's "Christmas Rappin" gets me in the mood to dole out the presents, but that's not the present I promised so let's discuss current events. We're at war, the holiday season is upon us like a ravenous beast, Britney is single, House has been ruined by the mad policeman sub-plot, it looks like Mel Gibson is going to have the last laugh again, and how about the weather. The present is having a dryer vent connection that is too long so you can only dry like 2 items of clothes at a time. I need to chuck the dryer into the yard and let it rust and become an appliance eyesore in true redneck fashion. The present is the everyday dread of the everyday banal - "I always wear a smile because anything but a smile will make me have to explain" - year end wrap-ups and crap-ups and best-of lists, waiting around in the cold while my skin flakes and cracks wishing I was riding my bike but not missing the smell of the roadkill and there's been lots of roadkill these days; raccoons, kitties, deer, and dogs. The present is about staying relevant, but what is relevant to you might not be relevant to me and vice versa reverse it and since it takes a minute amount of time to process information don't we all live in the past anyways. Next time around I'll bet back to the old school Wally back in the day type post. It's what I do best.

Mayhem Trafficking Subliminially Until

Back in the day I liked to think I was a writer. I'd fill up these little MTSU notebooks, 9 1/2 by 6 - 80 sheets - college ruled, with wack poetry, drawings, lists, and just random thoughts of the day. It was sort of like a blog except that nobody read it but me. There was that time that one of friend's mothers read one of the notebooks and then told me I was such an artist, but I think she was just trying to be nice. Anyways I figured I would go through one of those notebooks written in 1986 and see what I could dredge up from it. I hope the following either makes you go "Damn that boy could write some poetry" or makes you laugh your ass off at the lameness of it all.

Art is nothing and a punch to the face,
Perplexing thoughts ill thinks
This memory mortal shift.

Everyone's looking for their halos
Beneath umbrella protection skies
Lightning peals and shines
Sinister flashes from the postman's leather pouch.

Black mood in like fog
Out of lives.
This black mood overwhelms the only
Sound of noise.

How did that one grab ya? Don't worry and don't get happy because here's another untitled throwup.

Between the gates,
Among the snakes,
I can do anything.
I can walk the wall over the polluted waters.
Fall into the emptiness
Fatigue bleached blanket of sorrows

Cast a shadow upon the breaking pane's
silence.
Hide under the mattress waiting for the
next attack.
From dust to animate intensified desire.

You know I'm not a doctor and I don't play one on TV either. I don't know what that has to do with these proceedings, but it takes up space before the next piece of 1986 penned debris. I wrote this after an F Particles show at the Exit/In.

Work the door for the F Particles -
Ecstatic punk rawk menace slamdancing public service announcement I got my -
Priorities straight.

I drive parking lots to their destination (destined nation)
Pogo to the beat of the rain.

I threw smoke bombs at the patrons and gave the money to that dude that looks like -
Keith Richards.

I didn't really throw smoke bombs, but I did have fun keeping under 21's out when I was just 19.

Walking brotherhood
Smelling distrust
Scattering the paranoia
Like pixie dust

Use the flag as a bulletproof vest
The bullets won't pierce your chest

That was some lyrics from a punk rock song filled with angst and anti-military sentiments. It would have made a good song for D.O.A. or maybe the Dead Kennedys. Lets's move on to some super goofy trash.

clifftop caravan
I can breathe freely on a ledge
in the sky
above the city

perched with the middle class
studying for the breakdown to come

but the apocalypse don't matter
when you're on top of the world
the heat rises and I'm in thrall
perched precariously in freefall

If you think that was bad, how about this bit from one I actually gave a title to:

Change Of Scenery

Philosophy is revolt -
Anger is protest -
Gothic bells signal death -
Images flicker and fade -
Spring breaks across the winterland -
The scenery changes once again.

I must have been listening to a little too much Bauhaus and Sisters Of Mercy that week. I'll bet I was wearing my beret when I composed such deep and thoughtful lines. I can just see it now. I was nursing a Mountain Dew laced with vodka, the stereo booming, Spin and Rolling Stone magazines scattered about my room. I was probably wearing my sickle and cross shirt purchased from those capitalist pigs at Raven Records. Yep that would have been the view. One more blast from the ignoble past. I actually still like this piece of doggerel.

Wastoid weekend wuza wuz
my mind is no longer is
wh
what
I want...

When the moon is in the river
sometimes that's America.

Spray paint burners tags and pieces
you can't be shakey.

When the moon is in the sewer
sometimes it's the US of A.

Waiting at the gas station
with nowhere to hide florescent lights.

I guess I'll spend my quarters in the Tempest
machine.

Enough I say! I'll try to find something in the present to blog about next time.

Junior Pro

I've been away for a few days rocking that tai chi style. Just imagine me in jogging suit while "Beat Bop" rocks the boom box contemplating a sub zero Celsius jog and you'll get part of the picture. Just forget you saw that Snickers bar in my hand. Lately its been a heavy metal, punk rawk, and hip hop diet that my ears have been feasting on. I have to turn it up really loud since my hearing seems to be going to the same place that the hair atop my head has split for so I've been thinking about talking like an elderly dude all the time. "What's that you say sonny? The early bird special is at 3 PM."

But I'm still a few years and maybe decades before that so I can just chilly chill while I enjoy watching Emmy at her Junior Pro basketball practices. There's more traveling there than I saw all summer vacation, but her team is no worse than the older ones. Em's 2nd and 3rd grade squad managed to tie a 4th and 5th grade team during a scrimmage last night. There was lots of fouling, walking, and double dribbling, but there were times when they got in the flow and you could see the promise of future basketball stars out there on the court. Em is a coach's dream - a blank slate who had barely picked up a basketball before playing who has shown nothing but improvement since the tryouts. It'll be cool when the games begin in January.